To Feel Human
by VTPM
Summary: [One-sided ZetObi - oneshot] He wished there was some way to make it better. But he didn't know the first thing about loss, and nothing he could say would fix what had happened; would put the tiny, broken pieces back together. The right pressure had been given, and all the spiderweb cracks had caved in, leaving nothing but bloodied shards of glass, a torn photo, and a broken heart.


Zetsu stared down at the bloodied body apathetically, wondering what possible reason Madara found it to have some sort of use. The right arm was crushed beyond repair, blood leaked from its mouth; severe internal damage, no doubt, and some of the flesh on its face and body seemed to be nearly torn off. It'd be a corpse by morning, with or without medical attention.

He was startled out of his assessing thoughts when the Uchiha legend turned his focus on him and demanded lowly, "Fix it."

"Fix it..?" Zetsu echoed questioningly. It'd be a complete miracle for professional doctors in a high quality hospital to reverse the damage; he was no medical nin and he sure as hell wasn't equipped for the task. His knowledge of the human body was a little lacking too, if he were to admit it.

But the smoldering glare that was aimed at him was enough to convince him against further inquiries, and he gave a non-committal shrug. "I'll see what I can do."

As Madara returned to the throne at the far side of the cave underneath the Statue, Zetsu glanced down at the body again, wondering where he would even start. The arm was irreparable; it had to go. So was some of the flesh on the torso, it would need cut away, too.

"Try not to kill him, if you can," Madara spoke up again, sounding indifferent, but the subtle warning wasn't lost on him. "I'd like him in fighting condition, given he survives."

"The bone in his arm is completely shattered; it will never heal, at least not in a way he'll have use of it. The nerves and muscle are probably lacerated from the bone shards, as well. It will need to be removed," he explained. He still wasn't even sure why the Uchiha wanted to bother. He was still convinced the boy would be dead by sunrise.

Madara didn't seem deterred by the mutilation report, and supplied, "You can use one of the clone's arms as a replacement."

"I don't know.. It's not likely the Senju DNA will bond to him. His body will probably just reject it and it will end up killing him."

"Just try it. Even if he dies, he can be replaced, and I can still make use of his eye. It won't be a complete loss for us."

It was logical enough reasoning for him, and Zetsu retrieved what few tools he had stored in a nearby cavern that he figured could be made use of. Surgery wasn't the intended use for any of them, but they should be able to get the job done anyways. It obviously wasn't too detrimental if the treatment failed, and he didn't have any better means of acquiring the proper instruments in a timely manner, nor would he know how to use them right anyways.

To him, it seemed obvious enough that the arm should be the first thing dealt with, and he picked a serrated saw from his meager arsenal to begin with. It was probably intended for cutting down trees, and it was a little on the dull side, but humans were pretty soft and fragile, so it should handle the job just fine.

Zetsu located the socket joint where the arm connected to the shoulder, deciding that would be the best point for the amputation, and didn't bother with further idling, lowering the saw to the mangled skin before giving the blade a quick shove forward without holding back any pressure. The drive was enough to slice through skin and muscle easily enough, but blood immediately welled up on either side of the blade, splattering his hands, soaking into the bed sheets, and trickling onto the floor. It was quickly collecting into a puddle that would probably get in the way, which was such a pain, and he briefly entertained the thought of having used a tourniquet, but dismissed it just as swiftly. There wouldn't have been enough room to tie one off, anyways.

The rest of the disassembly wasn't so easy though; the bone shards had an annoying tendency to get in the way of the blade, and it took some more forceful slashes to remove the appendage. The site of the amputation was a tad jagged; it was by no definition a pretty cut, and the wound was oozing blood at an alarming rate, making it difficult to tell if there was any broken bone left to be removed. He was glad the boy was deep in unconsciousness. The last thing he needed was for his impromptu patient to start squirming.

It was until after he'd summoned one of his clones from the ground, cleaved off its arm, and affixed it as best he could in place of the amputated limb that he realized perhaps he should have waited to do that part last. Now the ground was slick with blood, and he had to try and maneuver the delicately connected limb out of the way so he could see what sort of internal damage had been suffered. At least a couple ribs had to be broken, putting crushing weight on vital organs and constricting their functionality, or possibly even impaling them. He'd have to try and move them on either account, lest the child suffocate or die of internal bleeding.

Zetsu at least had a scalpel for this, and could make much cleaner, more precise incisions to open the body and see into the chest cavity. As he expected, four of the ribs were broken inwards, and several others were fractured. Those ones he knew he could ignored, but the ones that were snapped needed something to hold them in place. Not having any better options, he tore another chunk from the clone he'd taken the arm from, molding the substance to putty and using it to piece together the breaks. Once that was finished, he scanned the moving bits for signs of tears or holes, though nothing seemed noticeable wrong; it was slightly disconcerting to see the writhing-like movements of the heart and the expanding of the lungs, but that was apparently what they were supposed to do.

Realizing the open wounds were still releasing a steady flow of blood, he threaded a needle he'd brought with his other tools [it took a few tries, since his blood-coated hands made it a bit slippery and harder to judge the size of the eye], and sewed the incisions as best and quickly as he could. Then he used the scalpel to cut away the outer flesh that was beyond healing and covered the right half of his torso in more of the Senju material in hopes it would stop the bleeding and accelerate healing better than bandages.

All that left was the boy's face, which seemed to have received only minimal damage, when considering the state the other parts had been in. There was some deep, twisted scars that would likely be permanent, but they would still heal underneath and wouldn't cause any risks to his health. The only problem was the split in his bottom lip that ran down his chin to his jaw line, which was easy patchwork and was sewn shut after a few minutes. Finally, he wrapped bandages over the boy's face to help keep possible infections at bay and covered the right half of his body with a torn blanket to keep the Senju material in place.

Deeming he'd done all that was in his ability, Zetsu scanned over his handiwork, surprised to see the boy was still breathing after all the blood loss and physical trauma. It was a far fainter than it should have been though, and was a little shaky at that; he was hanging on by a mere thread. If his body rejected the Senju cells, he'd die for sure, but if it did integrate properly, the exceptional healing properties it held should be enough to draw him back from death.

But as he'd pointed out to Madara earlier, the Senju cells didn't bond to just anyone; they were fickle like that, and more than likely wouldn't coalesce with the boy's own DNA.

It didn't really matter anyways. As Madara had said, even if he died, there was no real loss to them.

He could be replaced.

* * *

Obito was too loud, he decided.

He'd been with them in the Mountain's Graveyard for nearly four weeks now, the first two having been spent in comatose, and he was _always_ talking. Even in his _sleep_.

Admittedly, he was kind of funny; always bringing up odd, seemingly random topics and getting way too emotionally invested in them. It never ceased to amuse him how easily riled he got when teased, and Zetsu made a habit of poking at any topics Obito was obviously sore about to see his reactions.

But aside from those instances where he didn't mind the boy's outbursts, it could get irritating, if only from not being used to it. The mines were generally silent, and as he worked in espionage, he had it programmed in his mind to understand the importance of silence. Sure, it wasn't necessary to be quiet, but Obito didn't seem to posses an "indoor voice", and he had a habit of yelling whenever he was upset about something, and when considering the circumstances he was currently in, was fairly often. Not to mention he appeared to have some sort of emotional instability that wasn't hard to miss; he didn't seem to have any mild moods. Everything he felt was in the extremes, one way or another.

Normally it wouldn't be a problem, given he could easily leave the cave whenever he wanted and the boy was trapped there, but Madara had assigned him and one of his more independent clones with the task of being caretakers to Obito in his recovery while he went back into stasis. He knew better than to disobey an order like that even if Madara was unconscious, especially when the boy played such an important role in the future. [And he had an uneasy feeling of being watched from the shadows of the Gedo Statue, but he mostly just ignored it] When Obito had survived the night after his surgery and had been shown to having taken to the Senju cells, Madara had finally told him what use the Uchiha boy could serve them alive and was informed of his goal. Obito certainly was a good choice for it, thanks to that emotional instability he had. It would be easy to overload his mind when he had such poor control of his feelings.

That seemed to be the only qualifying quality he had, though. Obito hadn't showed any signs of being prodigious, not like Uchiha Fugaku's son, for example. He came off as pretty dense and simple-minded, had only just awakened his Sharingan at age 13, wasn't very impressive in terms of ninjutsu, taijutsu, or genjutsu, and was by no means much of a listener. He didn't know why Madara didn't just wait for Fugaku's son to grow a bit more and use him instead, but he was in no rush to question it. The clan heir could always be a backup plan.

Obito was agitated, as usual. He glared in irritation at Zetsu like it was _his_ fault that he was bed ridden and not allowed to walk yet. [Well, technically it was, as he was the one who kept forcing him to stay on the bed despite the Uchiha's protests that he was completely _fine_ , even though Zetsu had told him _multiple times_ that he was still too weak and would likely damage the right half of his body more, resulting in his death, did he _really_ want to die _that badly?_ ] It took all of his self-discipline to bite back sharp retorts and suffering sighs. Those would only ruffle the boy's feather's even more. He wondered if all human children were this difficult, or if he was just unlucky enough to be stuck with this one. He had a strong feeling it was the latter.

Zetsu gave in to temptation and sighed, crossing his arms and gazing back steadily at the raven's sour expression. "What's that look for?"

He didn't get a response, just continued to be silently sulked at.

 _How mature,_ he thought _._

He knew what it was about, though. Yesterday, the moment Zetsu had had his back turned, Obito had tried to leave on his own, entirely disregarding the fact that wandering off into the abandoned mines on his own in his condition was a great way to get himself killed, and had somehow managed to get nearly a hundred feet down the tunnel before his body gave out and started to collapse. Luckily his clone had found him at that moment in order to catch him before he hit the ground and risked jolting the Senju cells.

"You know it's too dangerous for you to be moving too much. You have to just stay still and let yourself recover."

The glower continued, the boy too stubborn to relent to the obvious facts.

Logic and reasoning didn't seem to work on him, so perhaps a different approach to the situation was necessary. _Sympathy_. Right, he could replicate sympathy. At least, he hoped so. He'd never really tried before.

"I understand it's difficult for you, but you need to rest. Think of it this way; the more you allow yourself to heal now, the sooner you will regain your strength and be able to walk. Get it?"

Obito seemed to consider it with a skeptical look for a few moments before he sighed, his expression softening in resignation. "Alright, I get it.. Doesn't mean I like it, though."

 _Just be glad you're useful, or else you'd be dead right now._

* * *

It was hard to miss the signs that alluded to neurosis. At first it could be mistaken easily for passion, and he supposed that was a large part of it, but it certainly went far beyond _just_ being passionate.

It wasn't the Leaf that was the source of his pure obsession [despite how much he obviously cared for his village], as is the case with many shinobi, especially in times of war. Nor was it even for his clan [he never spoke of them]. Rather, it was concentrated on his team alone; this intense, compulsive _need_ to protect them at all costs.

Zetsu found it all ridiculous, and rather pathetic.

It was this _need_ that left him under a boulder to die alone in enemy territory, where no help would ever come had situations been different, after all.

He didn't believe in relying on others; one only truly has themselves to depend on, for there will always be that day when those you get comfortable needing are no longer there, and you leave yourself open to pain and total mental collapse [but of course, that was what Madara wanted out of the boy, wasn't it?]. To have such a strong need for others was a weakness, and would never end well for anyone.

On the other hand, he was impressed. It was difficult to find such strong, undying _loyalty_ in this world, and for one to put _so much_ on the line for others, to _trust_ others so whole-heartedly, to value others' lives above one's own so _selflessly_ \- it was really something else, especially coming from a thirteen year old, to be so willing to die for another.. Even if it was stupid and pointless.

Obito could finally walk some, but mostly only a couple staggering steps before his legs would fail him. He could make it about halfway across the cavern, but it was with great difficulty. He'd made it further when he'd tried to find his way out of the mine, though that appeared to have only strained and weakened his muscles, setting him even further back from recovery then he would have been if he'd just stayed put like he'd been told.

Zetsu did understand his eagerness to leave; the dark cave was far from an ideal living place for a him, especially when he had a home and people he cared so much for. And he was clearly missing human contact.

The raven haired boy wasn't even half way across the cavern this time, and he already obviously couldn't continue. His entire body was trembling with effort to stay upright, and he swayed perilously from side to side, no doubt about to topple over the moment he shifted his balance to take another step.

But that wasn't enough to deter him in the slightest, and though it took visible strain on him, Obito managed to stagger forward a few more feet before crumbling to heap on the floor.

Sighing [he seemed to do that a lot anymore], he started over to the prone figure and nudged him with his foot to get his attention, though the Uchiha was too busy catching his breath to even make a cross remark.

Deciding he probably wouldn't be able to move by himself any time soon, Zetsu crouched down and carefully picked him up bridal style before carrying him toward the bed to rest. Fortunately, he seemed too exhausted to protest or struggle and remained nearly lifeless in his arms; the only reaction he could manage was to blink dazedly as his surroundings unexpectedly moved around him.

Zetsu lowered Obito softly onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his shoulders, then started to step back to give him time to rest, though was stopped in surprise when the black-haired boy seemed to regain his senses enough to swiftly reach out with his left hand and snag Zetsu's wrist before he moved out of range. The plant being just gave him a curious look, waiting for an explanation.

Obito floundered for words for a few moments before he began to look a little embarrassed, then finally settled with murmuring nearly inaudibly, "Stay."

It took a couple heartbeats for the meaning to really sink in, and by then, Obito's expression had waned from hopeful to tragically pleading puppy eyes. Internally, he already knew he didn't have a choice in the matter. Somehow the Uchiha had turned puppy dog eyes into a weakness of his.

He gave the boy a small smile of reassurance and settled with his back against the headboard on top of the sheets, and really, it was pitiful how much he cheered up at simple act. But pitiful in an endearing, sweet kind of way, he supposed.

The toll of his earlier strain seemed to catch up with him again, and Obito stifled a yawn before curling up against Zetsu's side for warmth against the mine's chilly air.

Once Obito's breathing had slowed and it was obvious he was asleep, Zetsu gently stroked his hair, not having anything better to do until he woke up anyways.

It took a few hours before the Uchiha stirred and blearily opened his eyes, tilting his head back to look up at Zetsu, as if needing to see his face to be sure he was really still there.

Zetsu smiled fondly and ruffled his hair, not that it needed the assistance to be even more messy. His hair had grown long enough over his stay in the Mountain's Graveyard to easily tousle, though it seemed to be yet another irritator to him. He made a face and did his best to smooth out the bedhead, then nestled closer to Zetsu and draped one arm over his torso possessively, unwilling to wake up fully quite yet and sighing contently.

He let Obito stay there for now, not having it in him to force the boy away. Especially since it was a little odd for even him to be this clingy, though Zetsu wasn't very surprised. He knew he was missing his teammates and had no one to interact with or any connection to the outside world other than Zetsu, so of course he would latch onto him for comfort, because he was the only there.

"Thank you.."

The soft breath of words startled him from his thoughts, though he briskly brushed it off. "For what?"

"You know, staying when I asked."

Zetsu stayed silent for a moment, then asked bluntly, "Why bother asking me to?"

Obito stared at him blankly, his half-asleep mind needing a moment to register the meaning of the question before he snorted. "Because you're my friend, idiot."

"But I'm not human."

"So?"

"Doesn't it bother you?" he asked skeptically.

Obito shook his head. "No. Why should it?"

"I'm not like you."

"No one's like each other. Everyone's different and stuff." Upon seeing that the plant being still didn't look very convinced, he rolled his eyes in exasperation and continued, "People are friends with non-human things all the time. Like summoning animals. Not that you're like a summoning animal, but you know, they're not human and they're friends with the person they're in a contract with. And some people have imaginary friends. Though I guess that's kinda weird and unrelated.. But the point is you're nice and I like you and you don't have to be a human for that so you're my friend and you'll just have to deal with it." He punctuated the sentence with a grin that perfectly said 'just try to tell me I'm wrong, I dare you'.

Zetsu blinked as he absorbed the jumbled mess of Obito's audible thoughts, and was pleasantly surprised at the warmth in his chest. No one had ever considered him an equal before, let alone a friend. As clumsy as the words had been, somehow that had only made their meaning more touching. After all, he'd been used to being nothing more than a tool his entire life and had been completely accepting of such a fate.

Admittedly, he wasn't really sure how to respond to something so kind being directed at him, and instead pointed out teasingly, "You're not really one with words, are you?"

The Uchiha scowled and was quick to protest. "Hey, I'm great with words! I should be for all the speeches and lectures I've had to give Bakashi.." he trailed off for a moment and there was a noticeable flicker of depression in his eye, though it was gone as soon as it had arrived and he resumed with his sentence with a grin, "I hope Rin and Minato-sensei are keeping him in check for me and aren't letting him do anything too stupid. I was pretty much the only thing keeping him in line. They must be so lost without me."

"Mm.. I'm sure they are," Zetsu commented offhandedly, feeling a heavy weight of guilt settling in his chest.

"Rin and Kakashi, they don't really have anyone else but Team 7, you know? They don't have much if any family left, and sensei's so worried and stressed over the war.. They don't always have something they can smile about. I try to help with that as much as I can, even if it's something little like making a stupid joke or making myself look like a complete idiot in front of them; if it makes them laugh or smile, it's all worth every bit of effort. They're my family after all; Kushina too, even if she picks on me and hits me all the time, I know she means well. I'd do anything to see them smile every day."

The weight was nearly crushing; suffocating.

Zetsu smiled, trying to keep the strain from showing. "I know you would. You're a good person. They must miss you a lot."

* * *

Obito was making great progress with his physical condition; he could walk around freely and no longer needed the tattered cloth to be taped to his body to keep the Senju material held in place. It was by no means completely settled or ready for any sort of strain, but it was much better than it had been before.

The progress seemed to help boost Obito's spirits and staved off the feelings of longing for his village and teammates, as well as the depression and irritation of being cooped up out of reach of any sunlight or fresh air for such a long period of time. After all that time he had been forced to stay in bed and recuperate, he was just grateful to have free movement and feel like he was making actual headway to being able to return home.

Madara had awakened from his stasis about a week ago, just long enough to get a report on the boy's recovery before returning to his hibernation-like state to conserve the Gedo Statue's chakra as much as possible.

His independent clone, the one Obito had decided to name Swirly in a show of great creativity and originality, was currently helping said boy with light practice sparring. _Very_ light, much to Obito's annoyance. But he didn't complain too much; his body wasn't capable of anything too toiling, whether he wanted to admit it or not, and these practice punches would help him get back into the swing of things, literally and figuratively.

The training session ended rather abruptly though when Swirly taunted the Uchiha one too many times about 'punching like a girl', which led to him losing his temper and attempt to try out a real punch on the clone [Zetsu found it necessary to step in and restrain Obito from accidentally hurting himself by exerting his muscles too much]. He wasn't sure what had ticked Obito off more: the connotation of the phrase, or getting upset at the insult toward kunoichi. [Obito had told him accounts of being on the receiving end of Kushina's cuffs, and it sounded far from pleasant. And no doubt everyone in the Leaf knew of the legendary Sannin Tsunade's punches. Clearly kunoichi punches were _nothing_ to be scoffed at].

After Swirly had safely scrambled from the cavern to give Obito time to calm down, counterproductively giggling to himself the whole time, Zetsu finally released his hold on the boy and smiled a little in amusement. "Don't let him get to you; you know how he is."

Obito snorted and crossed his arms. "Yeah, but he's still annoying. Just wait until I'm better; then I'll show him what a _real_ punch is." He glanced over at the near-lifeless form of Madara on the other side of the cavern and asked, "So, what's his deal with that whole 'Dream World' thing? You still never really explained that to me. And he kinda made it sound like a big deal."

"Well, it's his ultimate goal, so I guess it would be considered a little bit of a _big deal_. To him, anyways," Zetsu replied. "It's essentially putting everyone under a sleep genjutsu so that they can live out a perfect life without any worrying about death, pain, war, or any of the bad things in this world."

He seemed to think it over for a heartbeat or two before leaning toward the plant being to whisper, "Don't tell him I said this, but I knew from the moment I ended up here he was totally loopy.."

Zetsu raised an eyebrow. "You don't agree with it?"

"Of course not. Why would I? I already have everything I need to be happy in this world. And who would want to just sleep forever either? Isn't that, like, against science and stuff?"

He shook his head at all the questions, especially the last one. They were shinobi who broke the laws of science all the time; was science or physics _really_ any argument against it?

Before he had the chance to comment on it thought, Obito just nodded to himself decisively. "Definitely loopy."

Zetsu sighed. He hoped Obito's mindset on the subject would change, and soon.

* * *

He was bitter; bitter toward the clan that abandoned him, labeled him an invalid and failure upon entering the Academy at only five years old. The clan that glared and scoffed and called him a waste without ever having given him a chance.

But it was okay, because he wasn't much of an Uchiha anyways. The boy might mistake that as an insult, but Zetsu didn't think it was such a bad thing [He at least still had the customary pride and arrogance problems Uchihas tended to suffer from].

Obito seemed to have taken much more after his sensei and the man's wife. He could definitely see the Will of Fire burned powerfully in him, and he had the heart of an Uzumaki. Not to mention the clan's ability to continuously break human limitations and cheat Death time and time again.

Even the boy's chakra matched better to the Uzumaki clan than his own. It was all sorts of colorful, bright hues of oranges, yellows, and reds; it felt like the equivalent of warm sunshine or a homey fireplace. To someone with as sharp sensory abilities as his own, that sort of chakra was generally very welcoming, attractive, and overall pleasant to be near.

On the other hand, most Uchiha chakra was in one of two categories: sometimes they could be icy shades of blue, giving off the impressions of aloofness, frigid haughtiness, or steely resolve. Or more commonly, they had dark reds and blacks, which gave a straightforward perception of their chakra nature; fire. Madara fit into this category to the extreme; his reds were like that of a wildfire, exuding feelings of power and fear and death while his blacks were as suffocating as wreaths of heavy smoke. The sensations were quite a bit muted now, due to his condition, but it was easy to tell how potent it had once been.

He took his clan's rejection fairly well; he still smiled, and seemed so positive and confident. But Zetsu could see all the underlying rifts just under the surface.

It wasn't just the fault of the Uchiha, either. The boy had been in Mountain's Graveyard for a little over a year now, and Zetsu had learned a lot about his life in the Leaf over the duration of his stay.

He'd never known his parents, had lost his caretaker at a young age, had no other family to turn to, was shunned by his clansmen as well as his classmates and even a fair number of the civilian villagers. He was constantly disappointing himself thanks to the high standards and goals he'd placed over himself that he could never reach when he expected himself to, and in turn felt he was disappointing his teammates, and that sense of failure was only heightened when Kakashi did so well in comparison and mocked him for his missteps. Kakashi had grown cold and distant; Rin was always busy working in the hospital and as she got older, only wanted to spend more time with her crush despite how unreciprocating he was, always leaving herself hurt even after Obito's attempts to comfort her through the constant rejections; Minato was busy with the war and the new responsibilities becoming Hokage left him with. In the end, the boy was left alone more often than not, other than on missions. All of it had left him riddled with holes and insecurities, ready to give way when the right amount of pressure was applied.

Obito had healed his body well. He was capable of much more strenuous training and had the ability to use his chakra once again. He would be convinced he was strong enough to return to Konoha soon, and there would be little that could said to stall him. There wasn't much time left.

He was going to shatter like sugar glass.

* * *

The guilt had never felt this heavy, but he knew interfering would only make things worse [Ha, was that really possible?].

Where there had once been a battle zone now laid an ankle-deep lake of blood. Large, twisted branches stretched up toward the full moon overhead, drenched a vivid shade of crimson. Bodies hung from them, impaled; torn and shredded and mutilated beyond recognition. Morbidly, it reminded him of a Christmas tree; the corpses the baubles and the intestines the tinsel.

Obito was in the middle, expression somehow so full of _grief_ and so painfully _empty_ at the same time.

He was cradling her body, saying something; he could see his lips moving but couldn't hear what he said. It wasn't really his place to know, so he kept his distance until Obito grew still as a statue. Only then did he carefully approach him.

As he got nearer, Obito slowly turned his gaze up to him, and Zetsu tried not to wince. His eyes were so void and lifeless, and the blood splattered over his face just served to add to his haunted look.

Then abruptly he stood, dropping Rin's corpse like it was worthless, letting the blood splash onto her pale face and soak further into her clothes and hair.

"This world.. This reality.. It's Hell, isn't it..? For something like this time happen.." Obito trailed off and gave a broken, unhinged laugh. "What a joke.. It all just vanishes.. It's all fake.. What's even the point? If nothing lasts, it's all meaningless in the end.."

Zetsu hated to see him like this; after the two years he'd cared for Obito, he'd always been so bright and full of liveliness. The spark in him shouldn't be so suddenly extinguished.

But why was it so surprising anyways? He'd known it was coming. It was the plan all along. And he'd done _nothing_ to stop it, had taken part in _helping_ it happen.

What else could he have done? Warned him? Taken him back to the village? Told the Yellow Flash to protect Rin no matter what? _Kill Madara?_ None of it would have changed a thing. Either Madara would kill Obito, use the seal in his heart to take complete control of him, or Black Zetsu would take charge of destroying his mental state another way. There wasn't any winning; saving Obito had always been a lost cause. But he'd still never even _tried._

A small part of him was glad things turned out the way they had. If Obito had been saved and was allowed to return to the Leaf, he wouldn't want him anymore; wouldn't _need_ him anymore. He had only ever been a temporary replacement for the teammates he'd been missing. This way, Obito still had _only him_ to rely on.

 _The point is you're nice and I like you and you don't have to be a human for that so you're my friend._

 _You're my friend._

He felt sick.

"Come on, let's go. I'm sure Madara's waiting," Obito said monotonously, turning back toward Mountain's Graveyard, and showing no interest in moving either of his comrades to safety; leaving them out in the open in the middle of enemy territory with no cover.

Zetsu just nodded and merged into the ground to wait for him back at the mines. He wished there was something he could have said, some way to make it better- But he didn't know the first thing about loss, and nothing he could say would fix what had happened; would put the tiny, broken pieces back together.

The right pressure had been given, and all the spiderweb cracks had caved in, leaving nothing but bloodied shards of glass, a torn photo, and a broken heart.

* * *

It wasn't that he was no longer easy to read; when he was losing his patience or getting frustrated with something, it was still just as obvious as it had always been, it's just that there was _nothing there_. He would tense, or there would be hints of anger in his tone, but he always had a blank face. The mask he'd started wearing didn't help the situation either. Every once in a while he showed signs of emotions, but they were fleeting, and were few and far between; he'd catch himself quickly and reign them in within a heartbeat.

There was less and less of him every day as he got more used to using the name that wasn't his, the voice that wasn't his, _the personality that wasn't his_.

Zetsu missed the smiles. And the stories and the honesty and the warmth.

He'd changed so much, his very chakra had been altered. No more obnoxious, friendly oranges. It was all blacks and dark violets. Cold and quiet and forbidding.

Someone had been unfortunate enough to catch onto the Mizukage's hostile and cruel change of heart, and had foolishly voiced aloud his plan on telling the ANBU their suspicions of someone else being the cause of it. He was now sprawled on the ground, staring into the sky with lifeless eyes; deep purple, black, and yellow bruises surrounding his crushed throat.

Obito stood a few feet away, casually dusting off his pants and readjusting his gloves. After a few moments he said, "What a hassle. That could have gotten out of hand quickly." His voice was light, and it was easy to pretend he was only talking about some common, trivial slipup, and not someone he'd just killed to keep quiet. Then he approached the corpse and crouched next to it, placing one hand on the man's shoulder before pulling him into Kamui, effectively removing any evidence he'd had in body and mind. "Now then, let's hope nothing like that ever happens again."

Zetsu nodded, feeling hollow. Everything was too different about him.

 _He's not even Obito anymore_..

He'd changed some himself, though it was more in body than mind. The integration of Black Zetsu onto his right side had been odd to get used to, but not as much as he'd expected. They were two entirely separate beings with no access to each others thoughts, yet they could predict and understand what the other wanted to do and moved fluidly as one cohesive unit. But it wasn't as if he had truly changed at all.

Not only was the Uchiha too empty; too cold; too _fake;_ he was calculative, manipulative, callous, and downright sociopathic. It just wasn't right. He wasn't the _same_.

Then it dawned on him; he was being unfair. He'd been through so many hardships, had been put through trauma, had lost someone precious to him.. People change after things like that, it was natural and to be expected. One's life and behavior reflected their past experiences. He'd had so many negative things happen to him, that it altered his view and choices as time passed. It wasn't that he was no longer himself; he'd adapted to his new experiences. He'd grown up.

He was broken from his thoughts when Obito spoke up, "Are you coming, or are you going to stand there all day?" He realized the Uchiha had been about to head back toward Kirigakure, though had stopped when he noticed Zetsu hadn't been following.

Zetsu smiled and nodded, following him back to the fog-shrouded village. He knew he couldn't say the same for Black Zetsu, but his undying loyalty was to Obito, and Obito alone.

He'd follow him to the ends of the Earth.

* * *

Dying sunlight cast a warm orange glow over the garden around him; he sat cross-legged at the edge of the koi pond, watching the gold and silver flecks of light reflecting in the water off their scales. He didn't know how long he'd been there; he hadn't paid attention to the passing of time nor did he really care. It shouldn't be too much longer now.

It was okay, he could be patient.

The garden was a lovely place to retreat to, especially this time of year. Summer was when a lot of the flowers were in their full bloom; hydrangeas, cosmos, irises, lilies, azaleas - just to name a few.

One side of the koi pond was surrounded by willow trees, their long fronds very nearly reaching the water's surface when they weren't disturbed by the wind, several maidenhair trees were methodically placed about the rest of the garden, usually with weigela or barberry bushes, or some sort of flower surrounding their bases, and finally one large water oak at the garden's center. Its branches reached more outward than they did high, leaving plenty of lateral boughs perfect for sitting on.

It was almost picture perfect; the only thing missing was the lotus blooms, but those would come soon enough in another month or so.

Well, some _one_ was also missing, but that would fix itself too, and in much less time.

He closed his eyes and waited.

It took about another half hour before there was suddenly a presence at his side, and to most shinobi, this would be alarming, but Zetsu didn't react and kept his eyes closed. He could be content with just the feel of the garden for a little longer.

The visitor silently took a seat near him; about a foot or two to his right, judging by the sound of the rustling grass.

A sort of unspoken routine had manifested over the years since the beginning of Project Tsuki no Me [had it been sixteen already?]; every so often when there was nothing that could be done to further their plans but wait for things to run their course, they would spend some time in this garden. It was far from any civilization, and had a barrier that would keep out any unwanted visitors, but was easy for them to access due to Mayfly and Kamui respectively. Obito had needed convincing to take up the visits at first, but it had become ritualistic ever since.

Zetsu knew it was good for him, and he knew Obito was aware of it as well, even if he'd never admit to it. There was too much that was shifting out of the lines of the original plan, things that needed constant attention, people who were always interfering [the Nine-Tails jinchuuriki came to mind].. Obito preferred to keep as few people as possible aware of Project Tsuki no Me, which left him carrying most of the burden and stress to complete it on himself. Worse, he no longer slept soundly at night; the traumatic sights that had been burned permanently into his mind through his Sharingan leaving him with insomnia. As if his mind wasn't worn thin enough as it was.

Finally he opened his eyes and stared across the expanse of the pond, tinted an orange that felt so familiar to his senses, then glanced at Obito out of the corner of his eye. He didn't look like he quite knew what to do with himself, obviously lost in thought as he watched the koi swim in circles near the edge of the water and absently pulled at the blades of grass in front of him. He could tell his guard was down completely, the years having gotten him accustomed to feeling safe here.

Zetsu took a few moments to think over his approach and muster up the courage; he knew there was a fair chance Obito would react badly to it. But he had no idea what the best approach would be and decided fuck it, he might as well just wing it.

He scooted over close enough to be within arm's reach, the movement going entirely unnoticed by the Uchiha. For once Zetsu was grateful for the mask; it blocked his visibility quite a bit, especially on his left side. Without an further preamble, he wrapped an arm around Obito's shoulders and he felt the man tense at the unexpected contact, but before he could react fully, Zetsu pulled him closer, effectively managing to unbalance him into a lean. Obito seemed to register what he was going for and relaxed, letting himself be maneuvered onto his side until his head was resting in Zetsu's lap.

Satisfied [and relieved] that the action had been received well, Zetsu smiled affectionately and gently slipped the mask off of him so he could lie more comfortably, glad there was no protest when Obito only blinked lethargically in response.

It only took a few minutes before the Uchiha started to lightly doze off, and Zetsu softly stroked his hair to soothe him, though his black half did nothing more intimate than use Obito's ribcage as an armrest simply because his body happened to be in the way.

He wished the moment didn't have to end, but the sun had disappeared behind the horizon completely, and it was beginning to get dark and cooler outside. Obito must have fallen asleep at some point, because he didn't respond when Zetsu tried to get his attention. He didn't want to wake him, not with how difficult it was for him to get any rest, so he picked him up as carefully as he could to not disturb him, then carried him to a small shack on the other side on the koi pond. It only had a few metal shelves with gardening supplies in it, so there was still enough room for him to sit leaning back against the wall and let Obito lie down in his previous position once again. It should be a decent bit warmer inside the building, and they'd at least be safe from the wind and morning dew.

Content knowing that Obito was fast asleep and comfortable, Zetsu allowed himself to close his own eyes and get some rest as well. Things were far from perfect; hell, they weren't even okay, but Obito was with him and he was happy with that. It was the only thing he needed. He just wished Obito was happy, too.

But the Eye of the Moon Plan was drawing near its completion, and then things would get better. It anyone deserved a world of happiness and perfection, it was Obito. He just hoped it would be enough to make up for all the pain he'd had to endure in this world.

He knew his life could have been a lot easier if he'd never met Obito, or at least if he'd never let himself start caring for him, but it would have been dull and empty; completely pointless. He'd suffered and hurt from the feelings he'd gained, but it had only made the happiness and warmth he felt even sweeter. He knew he could say without a doubt he had no regrets allowing himself to develop the feelings he had, even if they were never acknowledged or reciprocated.

The full moon slowly ascended toward its zenith in the cloudless black sky, casting a silvery glow onto the world below; waiting for the day it inevitably became the same shade of crimson as split blood.


End file.
